


baby boy cant resist

by sowearegay



Series: Golden Glorious Requests [8]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, Nerd Louis, frat harry, teaser
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2021-01-16 20:07:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21276962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sowearegay/pseuds/sowearegay
Summary: louis likes to act bigger than his feelings and harry likes to see right through him





	baby boy cant resist

It was late, three, probably. In the morning. And Louis didn’t know how he found himself at a party, at a frat party of all places, at the biggest frat at uni, but. He did. Frat frat frat. 

Shocked enough already it wasn’t enough that he was there but that he was there in a room with a boy in a bed with the door cracked open. Not even locked. He’d said his name was Harry and Louis told him he liked it, cut to a minute or two later Harry had him pressed against the wall with his tongue down his throat and a minute or two after that had pulled him up the stairs to his supposed bedroom, laying him on the mattress and kissing Louis breathless. 

And Louis’ glasses were fogged up but he didn’t care—Harry had his hand down Louis’ pants and Louis had never been frisky like this, never one to take risks and the last time he got some was probably his junior year of high school, but fuck.

Harry had started rutting against him then, panting against Louis’ neck and sucking a hickey, and more than anything Harry wanted to fuck this kid but somehow this was just as good as actually fucking anyone else.

“Harry,” Louis gasped. His hands were at the frat boy’s shoulders and he jolted when he felt a squeeze at his cock, making it evident that Harry knew he was close and that he was too. 

“You’re so fucking hot.” Harry said, mouthing up Louis’ neck and the corner of his mouth. It didn’t take much longer for Louis to cum and it was so good he almost cried, convulsing under Harry and digging the blunt tips of his fingers into his shoulders. 

“Harry! Fuck!” he shouted, eyes clenched shut and teeth clamped as he groaned and panted, chest heaving. It was fucking intense.

“God, Louis,” Harry gritted above him, fucking his hips harder against Louis’. They were both just in their briefs and Harry could feel the warm wet on Louis’ briefs, the squelch of his spunk beneath them where he made a mess of himself. And it was fucking hot. “You’re so, fucking, hot,” Harry grunted between thrusts, “Cute little nerd, wandering around in a frat party.”

Louis tried not to sob, but he was so fucking sensitive. “Harry, c’mon you’re close, yeah?” He coaxed, nudging his glasses with his shoulder and trying cool the heat, shaking off the fog. He reached a hand down to Harry’s cock, giving it a squeeze and that was absolutely it for Harry and he came, Louis’ name grunted from between his teeth. 

Harry toppled over on top of him and Louis tried hard to breathe, weakly and uselessly pushing at his shoulders to get him off. Like, what the fuck? And what the fuck was he even doing here?

Harry rolled off and laid beside him with a smirk, hand on his chest and trying to calm his breathing. He was grinning and Louis was beside him regretting just about all of it. And he wasn’t even that drunk. He was just horny as fuck and lonely, damnit. Damn ‘Harry’.

He took a deep breath, still panting, still sweating, still in this bed with Harry and all his fucking clothes on and hot. He was about to reach for his glasses but Harry beat him to it and he freaked, blinking around blindly and breathing heavily as he worried Harry might try to fuck him over and prank him or embarrass him or some stupid ass frat thing that those frat boys do.

He was shocked out of it when Harry leaned over just above him, nose to nose, eyes to eyes. “Are you near sighted or far?” 

Louis blinked up blurrily at him, wanting to glare but only managing a meager whimper. “Far.” Louis couldn’t tell, but he knew Harry was smirking. 

“Good.” With that Harry sat up on the edge of the bed, pulling off his shirt and knocking his hat off and Louis could see that, could see all black designs tatted onto his toned muscles and tanned skin. It took Louis’ breath away, really, and only when his eyes flicked up to Harry smirking back at him did he realize how bad his eyes were starting to fucking hurt and reminded him that Harry still had his glasses. 

“Harry—”

“Shh,” He said, whipping the shirt with a confident gaze as he brought it up and wiped at the lens of Louis’ glasses. “You were getting a bit fogged up there.”

Louis blushed but didn’t say anything, blinking. “Er—”

Harry shoved Louis’ glasses on, cutting him off. “There ya go. All good, now.” 

Louis’ brows furrowed, eyes flicking around, not meeting Harry’s. “Um. Yeah. Thanks.” Louis made to get off the bed, hopping off and shaking his trousers from his ankles and shoving off his pants, trying not to cringe at the now cold cum and its squelch as it hit the floor. He sighed, grabbing his trousers and pulling them up, wincing as the rough material rubbed over his over sensitive cock and spread his cum. 

He fixed his glasses nervously and turned with his head down to make out of the room. He was planning on just stammering out, honestly, or stammering an apology before leaving or something but was startled out of any last minute plans of making a break for it when Harry pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the corner of his lips. “No problem, babe. You wanna stay?” He asked, plopping himself on the bed and taking off his briefs, wiping his cum with a half grossed out face on them, looking back up. “Could get coffee or something in the morning.”

Louis looked at him incredulously. “Uh, no.” He went for the door, got a hand on the knob before stopping briefly and breathing short, turning over his shoulder but not meeting Harry’s eyes. “Bye.” 

~~~

Louis’ late. Louis is so incredibly late for psychology and he’s so stupid because, really, Louis? Was a mid morning wank between classes really necessary? And, really, honestly, a mid morning wank between classes probably would’ve been fine, he probably would’ve been able to do it great and quick and got cleaned up fast enough but he just had to get his fingers up his fucking arse. He’s mad, he’s pretty mad, he’s—not that mad, actually. That was a really fucking good wank. It was so fucking good, but, fuck. 

He sighs, trying not to blush and not meeting anyone’s eyes as he rushed to make it to class. And, like, fuck. The elevator’s about to close and he’s jogging like a fucking nerd—he is a nerd, damnit, he is a nerd—and his glasses are sliding off and he’s about to drop his coffee and he just squarely makes it in, shouting like a fucking maniac for someone to hold the doors open for him. No one does. The elevator isn’t even fucking closing, Louis’ glasses were just fogging up and now he feels like a fucking idiot because people are staring at him and he just huffs and doesn’t meet anyone’s eyes because fuck them all, anyway.

And he really needs to stop saying fuck. He watches the doors close achingly slowly on the rain outside and taps his foot impatiently, sighing when they finally shut, punching in his floor level. 

“In a rush there, huh?” A person asks behind him and Louis huffs a laugh. Of course someone saw it all and of course he had to make it awkward. Louis laughs anyway, and turns slightly. 

“Uh, yeah I guess—fuck.” Harry smirks and Louis could not think of a worst thing to be confronted with in that moment. His knees wobble a little bit, but he shuts his eyes and turns from him, pulling his phone out. “What the fuck?”

Harry shrugs, lopsided grin on his lips. “Just tryin’ to get to class. Just like you. Suppose you’re late, then, no? Judging by your rush, I mean.”

Louis takes a deep, agitated breath, turning from him abruptly and pinching the bridge of his nose beneath his glasses. “Well this is fucking awkward.” 

Harry’s head tilts in mock confusion, that stupid cute puppy face of his smacked on. “Is it.”

Louis sighs. “Yes, Harry. It is. I’m not about to get into this, alright? I just need to get to class and that’s all. No more, no less.”

“Huh,” Harry says, considering. 

“Quick and painless, meaning don’t talk to me!” He’s proper exasperated and god damnit why is the elevator taking so long. 

Harry pouts, stepping towards Louis and wrapping his arms around the petite nerd’s waist and resting his head on his shoulder despite Louis’ halfhearted struggle. “But babe,” he whines, “I’ve missed your arse.”

Louis turns his head in a glare and a snarl, but Harry only sniggers, planting a large, wet kiss on Louis’ cheek. Louis feigns disgust. “Get off me.” It’s not convincing. He elbows out of Harry’s embrace, pulling out his phone and scowling. “You’re repulsive.”

Harry smiles, but before either of them can say anything, they hear a crackle of lightning and thunder outside and then the lights flicker and the elevator stops and fuck, “Fuck!”

Louis takes a deep breath but the lights turn back on and he’s good, he’s okay. He fucking hates elevators. Harry’s looking at him curiously, but the intercom comes on and some guy apologizes and promises to get them out soon and yeah. Cool. Awesome. 

Harry smirks and looks back at Louis, but Louis doesn’t meet his gaze. “Guess we’re gonna be stuck here for a while, then.” Louis tries to steady his breathing. 

“You alright, babe?” Louis scoffs and rolls his eyes, gripping tighter on his phone and scrolling mindlessly through his apps. “I can see what your doing on your glasses, y’know.” He wraps his hands around Louis’ hips and he doesn’t try to fight it. Just tries to breathe. 

“Shut up,”

Harry pouts. “We’re in an elevator together. Quite romantic, no?”

Louis scoffs. “Yeah and since when have you been one for romance, frat?”

Harry rolls his eyes but it’s lighthearted. “Fine, sexy, then. Hot. Kinky.” Louis doesn’t say anything, and it’s quiet for a moment and he’s hopeful that it’ll stay this way, but, “So,”

Louis looks up at him and wow, wow. Harry’s close, he’s straining his neck to even look at him. “S-o,” Louis offers, stutters, fuck. He shakes his head, brows furrowed up half angrily at Harry. “What, no. I’m, no, okay, Harry? Move. No.”

Harry pouts, nudging his forehead against Louis’. He’s hardly holding him and he’s not pinning him back, Louis could push him away if he really wanted. They both know that. “Babe,”

And, wow. Awesome. Louis’ life is just one big cliche, isn’t it? Getting hit on by the stupid cocky hot-as-fuck frat boy who won’t take an unconvincing no for an answer (Louis’ not even sure he means it himself), getting stuck in a fucking elevator with said horny frat boy. Who does that happen to? In real life—who?? And, Louis’ a nerd. Cherry on top. “Harry, I said no.” He really, really doesn’t mean it. He—wow. He really doesn’t mean it.

Harry takes his coffee from his hand, taking a gracious sip with eyes on Louis’ as he stares up incredulously at him. “But you still let me make you cum,” he offers, licking his lips and giving the cup back. “So how does that work out, then? Hm,” He grins, all teeth. “Good coffee, by the way. Make it yourself?” Low blow. 

Louis takes a deep breath. Harry’s got a point is the fucking thing and he feels a little pang in his heart because, really. It was a bit of a low blow on Louis’ part to just leave Harry after he made him cum. Like, come on, who has Louis turned into? Damnit. He sighs. “Fine, Harry. You, um, you still up for that coffee, then? I’m free for a few hours in the morning on Saturday, how’s that sound?”

Harry shakes his head, leaning in and taking Louis up in a kiss. It shocks him, but Harry grips his wrist to keep Louis from dropping his coffee. It does nothing to keep him from squeezing it. Louis lets out a small whimper of shock, but he kisses Harry back until his pulls away, breathing over his lips, “Dinner.” He says, “And some fun after.”

Louis looks at him sideways. “Harry—”

“Bowling, obviously, get your mind out of the gutter.” He grins, pecking another kiss over Louis’ lips. Louis blushes and Harry smirks, quirking his brow confidently. “Though I would not at all, ever, at all object to the dirty definition with you.” 

Louis glares up at him and Harry lets go of his wrist. Louis almost spills his coffee, saving it keeps him from punching Harry. Harry smiles at him, big and genuine. “Saturday at 7?” Louis gives him a wary look. “Ah, you said yes already. I’ll pick you up. Or you can come to the house, whatever.” 

Louis sighs. “Fine. Number?”

“Already programmed it in your phone.” Harry replies, winking. Louis gapes, but he shouldn’t. Nothing Harry does should surprise him anymore. “And I’ve already texted myself off it so don’t change your number.” He pecks to corner of Louis’ mouth before he can say the remark on his tongue and looks up at the camera in the corner of the elevator. 

“Alright, Paul, you can let us down now.” He says, idiotically, Louis thinks, until the fucking elevator jolts back into function and a “Finally,” comes over the intercom and Louis’ eyes widen both out of realization and fear. He looks up at Harry disbelievingly. Harry offers him a shrug. 

“You—?” 

“Have to baby sit his daughter for, like, three months, but it was a price I was willing to pay for you.” He smirks and, damnit, Louis hates that fucking smirk. Because Harry knows, they both know Louis was going to say yes in the end.

He looks up at him speechlessly. “And—the lightning?” 

Harry snorts, “Listen, I know I’m muscular and all but I’m no son of Zeus,” 

Louis looks up at him with a glare. It’s his signature move. “You’re such a fucking nerd.”

Harry grins, taking Louis’ chin between his fingers affectionately, rubbing his thumb over it soothingly. Louis bats him away with a huff. “Really, though, that was just some weird coincidence. Pretty sick, though. No?” 

The doors ding and open and Louis pushes Harry away before anyone can possibly see. “No,” he says, pushing past and making his way out the doors, but Harry catches him just outside as other students file into the elevator, pressing his lips against Louis’. He gasps out of shock and pushes at Harry’s chest uselessly. The kiss ends when Harry pulls away, smiling. 

“Saturday, seven.” He winks, pointing at Louis as he starts walking away, fixing his cap nicely on his head. “I’ll text you.” 

Louis stares at him, again, as always, disbelievingly and is only shook out of it when Harry jogs the few steps he took back and kisses Louis hard again. He huffs, but can’t find it in him to move. 

Louis doesn’t make psychology, but he didn’t wanna hear what his professor was to say about the stupid dopey smile on his face, anyway.


End file.
